


Breaking Sam Winchester

by Kagemirai



Series: From Hell [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Sam, Demon Blood Addiction, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Sam Winchester, M/M, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Top Dean, Torture, Torturer Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagemirai/pseuds/Kagemirai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had plans, plans to protect Sam, but Sam is making it difficult, leading Dean to resort to drastic measures. He will always do whatever it takes to protect his brother. Sequel to Care and Feeding of Your New Demon</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to wait to post all of it at once like the previous two parts but I decided to start sharing early. This pick up from Care and Feeding left off. I've tried to tag it with regards to all of my future plans. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think!

-Then-

 

            Sam had met up with Ruby outside of their hotel. Dean stayed close, following them to another hotel with a car he had stolen outside of their room. They paid for an hour before going in. Dean followed, eyes narrowed. He gave them a few minutes to get settled before kicking in the door. Sam's lips were wrapped around her wrist, his hips pressing forward into her. He was too wrapped up in what he we doing to notice his brother but that didn't stop Ruby. She let out a lewd moan, rotating her hips and smirking darkly at the older brother. Dean whirled, slamming the door and stalking away. He could feel tears in his eyes and that coil deep inside clenching almost painfully. His brother was having sex with a demon, drinking her blood. He had to do something, he had to save his brother before this spiraled further out of control.

 

            Dean went to speak but Alastair held up a hand, "Sam, you need to understand something. You are fully human, the small amount of demon blood Azazel forced you to imbibe does not change that. When Dean was pulled from hell by Castiel he did not come back as fully human. The blood he takes is to start changing him back. If he were to decide he didn't want to be a demon and stopped, his demonic nature would go dormant again." He paused, "If you had continued or were to start drinking it again you would not become a demon, you would be tainted and it would consume you. Do you recall what you did to those demons? You would no longer be Sam Winchester, hunter, you would be Sam Winchester, corrupted."

 

            "Can't you tell how powerful Alastair has become? It's too much for me, you smell like his power, his blood. I'm going to relapse if I'm around you right now."

 

            Dean stepped inside to find Sam laying in bed, "Hey Sammy, feeling better?"

            "Yeah." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

            "Good, that's good." He pulled out his blade, running it over his arm, splitting the skin. He watched as the blood began to bead and trickle to the floor in thick drops, "I have a question for you and I know it isn't going to be easy..."

 

-Now (Dean)-

 

            He had found a way to protect his brother, make him a demon, but to do it without killing him he had to have consent. He didn't want his brother to have to spend years in hell to become like him. So he offered him his blood, the first step, take in enough as a human you become corrupted, perform the right ritual before it reaches that stage and you become a demon. He stood with blood dripping down his arm, waiting for Sam to speak or do something.

            "D-Dean?" His eyes were blown wide, still affected by the earlier scent of Alastair's blood, it wouldn't take much for him to relapse.

            "I want you to drink, I want you to be strong, I don't ever want something to take you away from me Sammy." A thick drop rolled down over his fingers, "We can be together forever, hunting, protecting people, all you have to do is take the first step."

            It was a long moment before Sam's lips closed around the wound, his tongue lapping at the blood, catching the drops. In a flash he fell back, jerking away, blood smeared on his lips, "No, no, I can't."

            He frowned, looking disappointed, "It's ok Sammy. I understand you're reluctant but it's for the best. I know it must be hard for you but at least consider it, don't go jumping to tell me no." He let his arm drop, "I have to go take care of something, Alastair needs fixing, he kind of broke himself. Just stay here, we can talk when I get back, ok?"

            He nodded, slowly getting to his feet and moving to the bed, "Yeah, ok."

            Dean smiled, "I'll go put myself in the Impala, give you some space." He headed outside, getting into the trunk before heading down below. Alastair was waiting for him, strapped loosely to the rack, "My brother is an idiot." He bit out, tightening the bindings.

            The demon cocked his head to the side, "I am sure there is something specific you speak of." He stated, flexing his hands to test the bindings, "The left one is a little loose."

            He snarled, tightening it, "You know something? I can't stand hearing you like this." He grabbed the blade, prying his mouth open, "So we are going to do this in silence for the moment, I only want to hear your screams." The blade sliced deeply into his tongue, cutting it out, "That's so much better!" He tossed the muscle to the ground, listening to it land with a wet splat, "Now let's get this party started!" The blade carved across his chest, shallow, stinging cuts formed beneath his steady hand, "When we first started you told me the first cut is the most important. Remember you shaky I was? You had to support me, guide me, now look at me, that first cut is nice and smooth." He dug a little deeper as he cut down his stomach, twisting the blade in a circle to open a hole and in that moment Alastair screamed. It always took more to wring an actual scream from the demon, he could take and give in equal measure, "I'm so disappointed in you. That grace made you weak, apparently angels just can't handle torture. What would the other demons say if they could see you now? What would Crowley say?" He worked his fingers into the would spreading it wider, "We need to bleed that grace right out of you!" He exclaimed, grabbing the angel blade, "Where does grace live? In the blood, in the bone?" He slid the blade to his throat, splitting the skin over his jugular. Blue light welled up, that stolen grace peaking out, "Jackpot!" He pushed his fingers in, pulling the wound wider, "How do we get it out?"

            Alastair groaned softly, moaning low in his throat, his head tipping to the side. His fingers tipped toward the tray, a silver and glass vial sitting prominently in the center. Dean wrapped his fingers around it, lifting it. He held it between them, examining it for a moment before holding it to the wound. That shining blue light poured into the vial, was drawn into it. Alastair arched, tossing his head back before falling limp with that last trickle of grace. When the demon opened his eyes his tongue had been restored and his wounds healed but he was still strapped down.

            "Dean, how good of you to torture me in my time of need. I am...disappointed in how easy it was for you to make me scream, you may have even had me begging if you hadn't of taken my tongue, good boy." The shackles fell away at his command, "Now, what is this about your brother?"

            "He pulled back. I want him to be a demon, I found the ritual for it so he doesn't have to die but he has to consent. He drank but stopped himself after a mouthful. It's so disappointing!" He grumbled softly, looking at the grace in his hand.

            The elder demon grabbed it from his hand, looking at it, "You will just have to convince him. After all the effort we took to detox him and now we want to undo it all. I take it you want him to join us so you won't lose him, so he's less vulnerable."

            "Yes, there was a close call with that ghost, I'm not going to let anything happen to him." He began cleaning the blades he had used, it didn't do to have ruined equipment.

            "Tell me what you need." He purred, pressing up against him from behind, nibbling his ear, "Your brother will fall in line. He can't resist you forever, for now let me fix you in return." He bit slowly into his throat, growling.

            He tipped his head, resting his hands on the implement tray, his fingers gripping he edge, "More."

            His fingers run down his sides, gripping his hips tightly, Alastair loved leaving bruises on Dean's flesh. The young demon pressed back against him, rotating his hips in a circle, "Do you want it? Tell me, Deano, do you want to feel be inside you, all the pokes and prods?"

            He hissed lowly, "Yes, now, enough with the teasing."

            He bit sharply into his shoulder, "As you wish." His hips snapped forward hard, rubbing harshly over his spot as he set up a punishing pace, getting as deep as possible.

            Dean swore he could feel his pelvis crack under the onslaught but he held on tight, moaning and keening low in his throat. He thrust back, taking him in, his voice was raised in pleased bliss. Alastair's voice echoed through his ear, whispering words of encouragement and praise.

            "Fuck, shit, harder!" He jerked back, clenching over him.

            "Sam doesn't appreciate you, what you're trying to do for him, he doesn't understand." He thrust in sharply, "You can make him understand, make him realize what he needs, that you know exactly what's best for him."

            He clenched over him tightly, "Close!" He growled, tossing his head back, "Touch me!"

            He obliged, reaching down and stroking him tightly, "Come for me." He bit the mark on his shoulder, coming hard.

            Dean let out a shout, jerking forward then back, coming over their tools, "Look what you made me do." He grumbled, looking down at the white covering their implements.

            "It will help you focus, cleaning them, get your mind off of Sam. Get that done and you can go back topside." He kissed him, biting his lips, "It's going to take time to make your point but I know you'll get through to him."

 

-Sam-

 

            He couldn't believe what his brother had done. Dean had offered him blood, demon blood, and expected him to drink, to fall back into addiction. He didn't understand how he could think this was a good idea. Not only addiction but he wanted him to become a demon. Alastair had said if he drank demon blood he would become addicted followed closely by corrupted. How could he become a demon if he was corrupted? He didn't want to become a demon, at least he was pretty sure he didn't want to be one. What was he going to do?

            "I need some help." He said softly, closing his eyes, "I don't know what to do."

            There was a rustle of wings and Castiel stood before him, "Sam."

            He blinked, looking up, "Cas." He closed his eyes for a moment, "I don't think can be impartial, I don't think anyone can..." He trailed off, sighing.

            The angel scowled slightly, "What troubles you?"

            "Dean." One word held so much emotion, so many hidden truths.

            "Your brother is a demon, I was under the impression that you accepted his condition."

            "I do." The answer came quicker than intended.

            Castiel gave him a sidelong glance, "You are lying to yourself."

            "No, I accept him but I'm confused." He sighed, "He's my brother, I accept him, whatever he is, but I don't think I can accept what he wants."

            "What does he want?" He hadn't moved, content to stand looking down at Sam as they talked.

            "He wants me to become a demon."

            "He wants to kill you." It came out harsh, "Sam, you cannot allow that to happen, neither of you deserve the events that have been thrust upon you, and you do not deserve to die."

            "It didn't sound like he wanted to kill me, he didn't even try. He wanted me to drink his blood, said I had to take the first step." He looked up at the angel, "What am I supposed to do?"

            "Nothing, for the moment do nothing. Do not accept his offer and do not drink his blood. One taste could mean addiction, you must avoid this, if you become addicted there may be no going back."

            "Just one taste? Is it that bad?"

            Castiel nodded, "Yes, it would be."

            "Good thing I didn't drink his blood then."

            He scowled, knew something wasn't right about his answer, "Yes, it is good you didn't."

 

-Dean-

 

            They were back on the road, Alastair was back to normal, he was with Sammy, and the look on his face when Dean 'accidentally' cut himself shaving made his day that much better. He was in high spirits and had a plan to get Sam to take that next step.

            "Nice to be able to get back to the basics, right Sammy?" He practically bounced in his seat, hands drumming on the wheel.

            He smiled weakly, eyeing the cut, "Not having to worry about demons or angels, it is nice." The smile grew, turned genuine, "Yeah, I like the basics. There's a few ghost sightings, a wendigo, some vampires, and possible ghouls. Plenty of options since we've been so focused on demons and angels."

            Dean laughed, "The moment when a wendigo becomes a basic hunt, this is amazing." He grinned, "So Sammy, what do you want to go after?"

            "Ghost, I don't feel like being eaten."

            "Got a lead for us?"

            He snapped open one of the newspapers, "Family man found dead in his car." He opened another one, "Child drowned, this one happened on dry land. There's also the option of an old ghost town that is supposed to be haunted."

            "Child." He pounded out a tune on the wheel, "Where to?"

            "Hill City, South Dakota."

            The tune stopped, "Ok, do you want to stop off and see Bobby too while we're at it?"

            "No, it's fine, we're not going to see Bobby, we're on a ghost hunt. So forget about anything else." He was placating him, Dean knew Sam probably really wanted to see Bobby but the older hunter still didn't trust him.

            He took a deep breath, cracking his neck, "Yeah, got it, just still a little worked up." The wound from shaving opened a bit, sending a small trickle of blood down his throat.

            Sam swallowed, turning away from the fresh blood, "Can you take care of that?" He bit out, his voice barely audible.

            "What was that?"

            He shook his head, "You're bleeding."

            He smirked, knowing Sam was looking away, "Sorry, is it bothering you?" He glanced over at him, "Hand me a napkin and I'll clean it up."

            A flash of white waved in front of his face. He grabbed it, holding it to the wound for a moment, "Thanks."

            "Sure, not a problem." He tossed the napkin at him, "Alright, let's head to South Dakota."

 

-Sam-

 

            There wasn't a lake or river in sight. It was a tourist town, the gateway to the hills, the Black Hills. Somewhere in this town was a ghost who was drowning children without water. He knew Dean was trying to bait him. The demon could have healed that little cut whenever he wanted, he was letting himself bleed to tempt him. Well, he wasn't going to fall for it but it was tempting. Three children had drowned in the week since they found the hunt bringing the tally up to five. He mother of the last victim had been hospitalized, claiming her son didn't drown, that he was murdered. She was the first and only lead they had. The hospital was an older weathered building and the psych ward was at the top. They were the only windows that were barred which made Sam wonder what the point of having a psych ward that high was if you were trying to prevent attempted suicides. Alexis Williams was staying in a small white room complete with bolted down bed and nothing else. They we're let in by a rather large orderly in white scrubs.

            "Mrs. Williams?" He kept his voice calm and soft.

            She was sitting on the edge of the bed, black circles under eyes red from crying. Her long blonde hair was wild from lack of brushing, "They killed my son." She whispered, "They killed my son and no one believes me."

            He moved forward, Dean staying by the door, "Mrs. Williams, that's why my partner and I are here, we want to know what you saw, we want to find whoever did this to your little boy."

            Her blue eyes brightened, "It was a man, he drowned my son. He was there and then gone. It looked almost like Jacob but it couldn't be, he's dead, has been for a long time." She spoke quickly, was virtually rambling, but it was helpful.    

            "Jacob?" Dean finally spoke from the door.

            She nodded, "Yes, Jacob Hastings, he was a nice young man, lived down the street from us. One day he drowned in the community pool, he must have slipped and fell."

            "Thank you, Mrs. Williams, if we discover anything we'll let you know."

            She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, "Please find the man who killed my son."

            He nodded, heading out the door with Dean, "You think it's this Jacob?" Dean asked, sliding behind the wheel.

            "I think it's the best lead we have. We need to do some research though, find out what really happened to him and why he would be killing children."

            "You're in charge of research while I hunt us down some food." He smirked, "I'll drop you at the motel and we'll meet back up in an hour, sound good?"

            "Sounds like a plan."

            Dean dropped him at the motel before driving off to get them some dinner. Research was slow going, there wasn't much information on Jacob Hastings. He died at 19 after having graduated from high school. He had been an excellent student, straight A's, honor role, and then he had died. His death had been a supposed accident. It was assumed that he slipped and fell when he was at the pool. Why he had been there in the middle of the night was still up for debate. There was some speculation that he had been pushed or bashed over the head but no one knew how or by whom. He had been found floating in the pool, the water stained red. By all accounts he was a normal teenager it now he was drowning children.

            "Found anything?" Dean pushed open the door, putting two bags on the table.

            "A little bit still no sign as to why he would be drowning kids. He was either killed or accidentally fell and drowned but there is no way of knowing for sure. There were no witnesses, he was there in the middle of the night, his head got cracked open, and he drowned."

            He sighed, "We could just go find his grave and take care of it, it isn't like we need his life's story."

            "I like knowing why but if we're sure it's him then let's go."

            "Eat first and then we can get going." He started pulling food out of the bags, two salads and a pie.

            "Two salads?" He raised an eyebrow, closing his laptop.

            "Yep, I decided to try your rabbit food but there's pie so I'm good even if this sucks."

            "Did you get lite dressing on yours?"

            He snorted, "No, didn't want to go totally off the reservation, it's regular." He took a bit and immediately made a face, "How can you eat this all the time? Salad is a sometimes food." He grumbled.

            Sam laughed, "Well, I'm glad you're eating something healthy for once."

            "Was I getting fat?" He paused, the fork halfway to his mouth, "Am I getting fat?"

            "No, but I think you would have started."

            He pushed the salad away, "Should I even be eating at all? I don't need to." He eyed the pie, "But pie..."

            "Salad first then you can have pie." He pointed to it with his fork, "Eat."

            Dean finished his salad then had a small piece of pie. He looked longingly at the rest but refused to eat anymore, "Let's get this over with." He grumbled, heading for the door.

            "What would Alastair say if you got fat?" Sam teased, making sure they had all of their supplies to deal with a ghost.

            "He'd probably strap me down and cut out all the extra fat." He grumbled, grabbing a shovel and heading for the cemetery.

            Sam smirked, poking him the the handle of his shovel, "Aren't you worried about what happens after liposuction? All that loose skin?"

            "Shut up, we're here." He dug the shovel into the ground, "Start digging, you get first shift for that last comment."

            Sam grumbled but started digging. It was an hour before Dean took over while Sam rested beside the grave.

            "Almost there Sammy, ready?" Dean asked as his shovel banged into the wooden lid.

            Sam gasped, could feel something in his throat, crawling up. He scowled, letting out a cough. He could taste chlorine as water bubbled up.

            "Sammy?"

            He coughed again, spitting out a mouthful of water. He could see him, a young man, soaking wet, standing there. Blue eyes glared at him, his hand outstretched. He gasped, falling to his knees, pointing. Dean acted fast, pointing the shotgun at him and pulling the trigger. Sam gasped, coughing again, finally able to get in some air.

            "Burn it, hurry up before he gets back." He gasped again, could feel him coming back.

            Salt and lighter fluid and Sam couldn't breathe again. Flames burst from the ground and he gasped, looking over where Dean stood beside the grave, "You ok Sammy?"

            He nodded, "Yeah." He gasped again.

            "Can you walk? Come on, get up, let's get out of here."

 

-Dean-

 

            He had let Sam almost drown, wanted to show him his mortality, wanted to keep him safe, and if that took a little bit of risk than so be it. He wouldn't actually let Sam die but come close? Yeah, he could do that. It was all in the pursuit of something bigger, something more important. After the near drowning, Sam was more careful, this made it harder to tempt him, to show him he was mortal, but he was determined. Now they were on their way to another hunt, another ghost in an actual ghost town. He couldn't wait, had even bought a Stetson and a pair of cowboy boots to mark the occasion. They were in southern Nevada near the Arizona border, they were far from civilization but it didn't stop people from coming out to see the real live ghost town.

            "Ready Sammy? Let's go hunt us a ghost!" He stepped out of the Impala, boots crunching in the dirt. He immediately loved the Stetson, it worked wonders to keep the sun out of his eyes. He tipped his hat as Sam blinked at the sun.

            "It's too bright." Sam grumbled.

            "I told you to get one." He smirked, "You said no, I bet you won't even ride a horse."

            Sam's eyes grew wide, "Those things are dangerous."

            Dean snorted and shook his head, "You're bigger than most of them, we'd have to find you a giant of a horse or you'd crush it."

            "I doubt we're going to be riding horses."

            The demon took the lead, supply bag slung over his shoulder, "You never know. Maybe we'll get to have a gun fight too!" He sounded far too excited, even in his own mind.

            They parked a ways outside of the town, Dean didn't want something to happen to his baby since they didn't know how much of the town was haunted. Of course it was Dean who managed to find the only hole next to an old rusted barb wire fence and fall, slicing his hand open when he went to catch himself. Blood slipped over his skin and out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam's nostrils flare and his pupils blown wide at the scent.

            "Are you alright?" He moved close, taking his hand, looking at the wound.

            "I'm fine." His reply was soft as he looked at his brother. He watched as Sam unconsciously licked his lips, "It's alright Sam." He was giving him permission, not that he needed to, he didn't think Sam would give in so easily.

            Sam pulled him up, keeping ahold of his wrist, his eyes still locked on the wound, "Might want to get that wrapped up."

            "Yeah." He tugged lightly, "Good thing I can't get tetanus." He chuckled softly, pulling out a strip of cloth, wrapping it tight around his hand, "Good to go."

            "Sure you're ok?"

            He smiled, letting his eyes slide half closed, "Trust me Sammy, everything is fine."

            They moved forward, Sam's gaze drifting to his hand every now and then. Part of Dean hoped that this was going to distract him, he didn't really want to see Sam hurt but it was necessary, just like his own 'accidental' wounds were important to Sam's future. The moment they set foot in the actual town Dean was excited, it was perfect. He loved the old buildings, the way the light filtered through the dust, it was old and spooky and perfect.

            "Wow." Sam finally pulled his gaze away from his hand, "I'm surprised it isn't in worse shape considering the number of people that come here."

            "Let's take a look around while it's still light." He felt like the world had just gifted him with the biggest pie in existence.

            He headed toward the nearest building, hoping it was a bar, slowly pushing open the door. Dim light filtered in through grimy windows giving the saloon a hazy look. There was a large mirror behind the bar, stools lay broken and tipped over across the floor. A large upright piano sat against one wall, the wood peeling and dull. He let out a low whistle, moving over to it, fingers brushing against the keys. He pressed one down, the tone came out clear, echoing in the room, it was still in tune after so long.

            "This place is amazing!" He laughed, brushing dust and dirt off the top of the piano before moving to the bar.

            Upstairs was even more impressive. The beds were still in one piece, the coverings decaying and worn, but it hadn't been looted. It had been well over a hundred years since the town had been occupied, surely there would have been looting and vandalism? Maybe this ghost wasn't such a bad thing. He moved into one of the rooms, spotting personal items, actual intact personal items, on the bed. It made him think of a museum, all posed and perfect, a slice in time. There was a silver pocket watch and a stack of letters written in curving script.

            "My dearest Dean..." He blinked, "That isn't creepy."

            The sun was just beginning to set when he stepped back into the street. Sam was coming out of a dry goods store if the sign above the door was anything to go by, "This place is so well preserved and there's been no looting whatsoever."

            "Did you find anything, I dunno, creepy in there?"

            Sam scowled, "Like what?"

            "Maybe a letter with your name on it?"

            "Dean, come on, you're not the only one to ever have that name."

            He shrugged, "Still creepy."

            "It's starting to get dark, supposedly that's when strange things begin to happen."

            "If the ghosts are keeping this place so well preserved what's the problem?" He looked toward the dying light, the sky filled with pinks and oranges and reds.

            Sam gave him an incredulous look, "Really, Dean? It's a ghost or ghosts, it's the kind of thing we take care of."

            "Are people getting hurt?"

            "There was one fatality, it looked like a gun fight."

            Dean's eyes lit up, "I am so excited."

            The moment the sun finished sinking below the horizon it happened. The town seemed to come alive again, dim light filled the windows, people appeared on the street, and in the saloon the sound of clinking glasses and a well tuned piano filtered into the street. Dean was off like a shot, making his way back into the saloon with Sam close behind him. The room was filled with people, women were serving alcohol, an older gentleman was playing the piano, and behind the bar was an older woman. She turned to them as they came in, a welcoming smile on her face.

            "Welcome."

            Dean looked ready to burst, "This is awesome!"

            "What brings you boys to our little slice of Heaven?" She had a rag in hand and was cleaning a glass.

            "Ma'am, we were just passing through." He grinned.

            "You wouldn't happen to be Dean and Sam Winchester, now would you?"

            The room went silent as she said their names. Sam stood frozen behind him, unsure what to make of this whole situation, "Yes ma'am, we are." Dean stood protectively in front of his brother.

            She laid her hands flat on the bar, the eyes of every ghost in the room were focused on the pair of hunters, "We don't want any trouble from hunters but we protect our home. You aren't the first to come to our town and we're sure you won't be the last." She paused, "Yes, we know all about the two of you and we know what you plan to do. If you don't want to stay here permanently you will be on your best behavior. Our sheriff doesn't take any guff and he ain't gonna hesitate to put a bullet in you if you boys try and take us out. There is something in this town could use your boys' expertise on, an act of good faith if you will, something you'll wanna do if you want to keep those pretty faces intact."

            "What do you want us to do?" Sam swallowed hard, they had never faced so many ghosts at once let alone ones who were even a little amicable.

            She smiled warmly at him, "Why don't you pony up to the bar and we can have a nice chat?"

            The brothers shared a look as a place was cleared for them, the other patrons moving to the side so they could sit on two intact barstools. They sat and he music started up again, the room filling with conversation and the shuffling of cards.

            "So you've carved yourselves a little place in the world?"

            She nodded, "Most of us lived here it some came from other parts, not all us restless spirits are bent on destruction. We just want to keep going with our lives. There are some though who cause trouble. Being ghosts ourselves puts a damper on doing anything about them. We don't want any trouble, we rely on the hunters we can convince to help us to take care of the bad seeds."

            "What about those who refuse to help?" Sam was being stubborn, Dean liked this place and wasn't going to let Sam ruin it.

            She smiled and it wasn't a very welcoming one, "We run them out. If they come back they might find themselves with a bullet in their head." She spoke plainly, straight to the point, "We wouldn't want to see that happen to you. We hear a lot about you, the brothers who stopped the apocalypse." She looked at Dean, "The hunter turned demon and his brother Sam. It's quite the tale."

            "Dean?" The voice was high pitched, nearly squealing, "Is it really you? The great Dean Winchester? Here?" She squealed again and Dean turned his head slowly to see who was speaking. She was dressed in a bright red dress, low cut and tight to show off her cleavage. Long black curls fell over her shoulders and back, she looked at him with adoration in her bright blue eyes.

            "Erica, you silly girl, we're having a talk here, go back to work." The matron looked like she dealt with this on a consistent basis.

            She squealed again, wrapping her arms around Dean tightly, "I've waited forever to meet you!" She gushed.

            Dean gave Sam a panicked look, eyes wide, "Thanks?" What were you supposed to say when a ghost was trying to squeeze you to death.

            "Erica! Release the poor boy now!" She snapped, slamming her hand on the counter. The girl snapped back, releasing him, "Go on now." She scampered off giving Dean flashes of puppy dog eyes as she went to see to the other patrons.

            He looked at the matron in thanks, "About that job? You keep her from trying to squeeze me to death and we will be happy to help you out, right Sammy?" He elbowed his snickering brother.

            "Right." He rubbed his side, grunting softly.

            "That last looter we got, he stuck around after being shot. We gave him a proper burial, always do, it keeps some, of them from coming back. He keeps trying to run off with our stuff." We want you to take care of him. Do that and you're welcome in our town whenever you want to stop in for a visit." She smiled, "Provided you don't try to off the rest of us of course."

            "Of course, so where's he buried?"

            "Just outside of town, we marked it with a wooden cross and surrounded it with rocks." She gave Sam a hard look, "That's the only grave you need to tend to."

            Dean smiled  laying a hand on his shoulder, "Don't you worry about a thing ma'am, we'll take care of it."

            She nodded, smiling again, "Thank you." She nodded, pouring one of the patrons a drink.

            The pair stood, going outside, "You can't seriously be thinking this is ok." Sam hissed, grabbing his shoulder.

            "Sam, did you notice how many ghosts are in this town? More than a hundred. If hunters have come here before they know how to protect themselves. They're not randomly killing people." He grasped his shoulder in return, giving him a firm shake, "Don't be stupid, we can't take them all out and I'm not going to let you die trying. So, we're going to salt and burn the looter and then we can leave if you want, alright?" When he didn't get an answer he gave him another little shake, "Ok, Sammy?"

            "Yeah, ok." He swallowed, looking into the black eyes of his brother, "I think you're bleeding again." He said absently.

            "Let's get this done." He felt blood seeping through the bandage. As he turned he brushed the fresh blood against Sam's hand, knowing his brother wouldn't notice, if the blown pupils were any indication of his mental state.

            Sam followed, moving up to walk beside him. For a brief moment he seemed conflicted, his arm raised slightly before dropping again, like he was unsure if he wanted to do something. After agonizing moments he finally brought his hand up, licking the smear of blood. If possible his eyes grew wider as he realized what he'd done. Dean pretended not to notice, wasn't going to draw attention to the fact his brother had tasted demon blood again. The grave wasn't hard to miss, it looked fresh but undisturbed, it was likely that any visitors to the town had written it off as part of the ambiance. Dean started digging, letting Sam get ahold of himself. It was slow going but he had a feeling he was wearing him down. He glanced over at him, watching him lick his lips, and he smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning we begin with torture and end with some Wincest! I hope you enjoy and there will be more coming when I finish. Please let me know what you think.

-Alastair-

 

When he had decided to consume the grace of angels he hadn't thought about the long term consequences, all he had been thinking about was taking care of those winged menaces. Now part of him was regretting it. Crowley had come back after the deaths of Uriel and Zachariah, immediately he had taken advantage of Alastair's grace addled state. He took the opportunity to turn a large following of demons against him. The older demons knew better and for that he was thankful but the younger generation were easily swayed by Crowley's glib tongue. Then there were Dean's plans for his brother. Having two demons under his purview who were such accomplished hunters would give him the extra leg up he needed to get ahead of Crowley's machinations. The problem with Sam was that he's stubborn. The younger Winchester didn't want to fall into his old ways, to drink his brother's blood, especially since they had worked so hard to get him detoxed. Sam wanted to be strong, to be a better brother, but he didn't realize that his human weaknesses were making it harder on Dean. His partner's weakness lay in his brother, he would do anything for the human.

He sighed softly, turning his gaze to the demon on his rack. This one was young, just barely a demon, and had been more than happy to follow Crowley. He didn't know much, if anything, but it was amazing stress relief. To top it off he was performing for an audience. It wouldn't do to torture a demon in the privacy of his workroom. The only benefit from at was personal, with an audience everyone got to see the end result of his efforts.

"Welcome, today we have a special treat. Henry here has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who go against me." His voice was low, calm, but there was anger simmering just beneath.

"Please don't do this." The young demon tugged at his bonds, "I was just following orders."

He shook his head, focusing on the audience, "Does he really not know what happens? Have the young not heard of the grand inquisitor of hell? Picasso with a razor?" He chuckled and the audience laughed, "Your current ruler." He paused and the room went silent, "Young demons these days, are you being taught nothing? How long have you been down here Henry?"

He swallowed, tugging at the bonds again, "One hundred years."

Alastair patted his cheek, "So young and yet I know there are demons younger than you who know not to fuck with me." His voice was harsh as he picked up his blade.

The blade moved close, held in a steady hand. A litany of frantic "no"s rang through the room as Alastair slid the blade up and down his cheek. Slowly wrapped his fingers in the demon's hair, holding his head steady as he slowly began to scalp him. The demon screamed as the torturer removed flesh from bone. He tossed the bloody scalp to the ground and the demons cheered.

The ruler of hell moved close to his victim, his mouth by his ear, "You should be proud, you are serving a great purpose." He whispered softly, "You get to be an inspiration to all the young little demons who don't know any better, like yourself."

"Please..." He sobbed softly.

"Shame." The blade slid downward, splitting through skin, "Let's see if we can't get beneath your skin and work put way to the heart of the matter." He cut open his side, reaching in beneath his skin. The demon screamed as Alastair's fingers slipped through his skin, "You're so young, what are we teaching the youth these days? Torture is an art, do those working among the racks not know what they're doing anymore?" He sighed, shaking his head, "I'm so disappointed." He pulled his hand away, "Anyone in the audience want to come forward and show me what you can do? Come now, don't be shy." He paused, white eyes flashing, "You don't want me to choose at random." He stated calmly. An older black eyed demon stepped forward, coming to stand before him, "Ahh, Calix, it's been a long time." He offered him his blade, "Show me what you can do."

Calix had been on his rack centuries ago. He had been stubborn, not as much as Dean but he had been difficult to break. He was one of the few who had briefly apprenticed under the head torturer. He crossed his arms over his chest, blood coated his skin up to his elbows, staining his white shirt crimson. Calix drew the blade slowly across the demon's stomach, splitting skin just enough for the blood to pour free. The demon on the rack sobbed loudly as Calix cut into him, carved through skin and muscle.

"Alastair, could you hand me a clamp please?" Calix was always so polite, it was refreshing.

He retrieved a clamp, handing it over, "Good work so far." Praise was a wonderful treat to use and so very important.

The clamp was worked under his skin and he grabbed at something, pulling it out through the small hole in his arm. Artery and vein were pulled free with a sharp jerk, he held up the web of material, examining it before speaking, "It reminds me of a tree, branching off to allow blood to travel through the body, to give life to our vessels. Henry, we are like the veins in a body, we serve a purpose, make things run. Alastair is at the head, the heart, the brain, he is pursuing the best options for us as a whole. Crowley wants to disrupt our work, that cannot be allowed. Don't you see? Crowley doesn't have our best interests at heart, he's out for himself." He patted his cheek with a bloody hand.

"H-He's an angel though." He coughed weakly, spitting out blood.

Calix smiled, "No, he was an angel." He drove he blade into his gut, watching his organs spill free. Henry fell limp in his bonds as Calix stepped back. He bowed deeply before the white eyed demon, offering his blade back.

"Wonderful job, I'm pleased." Alastair took the blade, licking the blood from it slowly before turning back to the gathered crowd, "The torture of traitors is encouraged and the one who brings me Crowley and straps him to my rack will be well rewarded!" The resounding cheer echoed through the room and Alastair smiled.

 

-Sam-

 

All he felt was pain, dull and throbbing through his body. He could remember going to the ghost town with Dean and going out to the burial, after that all he could remember was pain. He let out a low moan, cracking open his eyes. He was laying on a couch, a very familiar couch. How did he get to Bobby's?

"Sam, you need your rest." The voice was low and calm, flat and familiar.

"Cas?" His eyes opened further, turning toward the trench coat wearing angel, "What happened? How did I get here?"

"Dean called for me. You were injured severely while hunting. I was able to mostly heal you but you need your rest."

He groaned again, "Dean called you?" He let his eyes close, "How bad was it?"

"You were impaled on a wooden grave marker. He was unsure if you would make it and immediately called for me."

"Where is he?" Why wasn't his brother there?

"He is driving here and should arrive soon. You have been asleep for a day."

He could feel himself drift, "Cas? Thank you." He fell back into darkness.

 

-Castiel-

 

He hadn't been sure he would hear from Dean again. The last contact he had with the Winchesters was when protecting Bobby, Sam, and Dean's body from Uriel. He had been watching of course, when he could manage to keep track of them, so he was prepared when Dean called for him. The prayers of demons were difficult but not impossible to hear, most angels just chose to ignore them, but he was still uniquely attuned to Dean even if his mark had been cut from him.

"Castiel, I need you here now. Ghost town in southern Nevada, near Arizona, hurry." He could hear the worry and panic in Dean's prayer. The moment he arrived Dean turned his black gaze to him, "You heard me, I was a little worried you wouldn't. You have to save him."

His gaze fell to a bleeding Sam Winchester. The young man was laying limp, a grave marker through his side, "What happened?" He moved over to him, kneeling down and examining the wound.

"We were hunting a ghost. We had just finished digging and he went to get the salt when he was thrown." Dean was hovering by his side, "Tell me what to do, Cas."

"The marker must be removed. I will heal what I can but my grace has been limited since my decision to go against Uriel and Zachariah. He will need time to recover."

"Alright." He wrapped his hands around the slick end of the marker. Sam had slid down the wood when he was thrown. With a deep breath he pulled, watching Sam's body slump further to the ground, blood pouring from his wound, "Shit." He hissed, watching the angel.

Castiel touched the skin around the wound gently, the flow of blood stopping as skin knit back together, "He will be in pain. You should take him to Bobby."

"You can get him there faster, I'll take the car and head that way. Get him to Bobby's." It wasn't a question, it was an order, but he was willing to accept this one without complaint.

He picked up Sam, holding him close, "We will be waiting." He disappeared, carrying the injured man into Bobby's home without knocking or announcing himself. The chambering of a round gave him pause, "Bobby, Sam is injured." He moved toward the couch, laying him down, knowing the old hunter wouldn't fire.

"What happened?" The grizzled man moved forward, putting his shotgun down.

"I have healed him for the most part but he needs rest. He was injured on a hunt."

Bobby grabbed a blanket, covering the young man, "On his own? Where's Dean?"

"Dean is fine, he is coming here now. I was unable to take both of them and he requested I bring Sam here to rest."

"Are you staying?" He rubbed his hands over his face, "I suppose I'd better make the place a little more demon friendly." He grumbled, getting a drink.

"Yes, I will stay until Dean arrives." He sat down at the small table, "I have been watching them. Dean is unlike any other demon I have encountered."

Bobby scowled, pouring another drink before sitting across from him, "How so?" He downed it in one go.

"Alastair made sure to nurture and maintain what fundamentally makes Dean, Dean before transforming him. It is true that he no longer has a conscience, however he retains his human connections. He holds both you and Sam on high regard, I seem to have acquired a place in his mind as well. He was willing to call me when he was in need."

The scowl deepened if that was possible, "How did he call you?"

"He prayed."

"He prayed? You answered the prayer of a demon? I didn't think that was even possible."

Castiel poured Bobby another drink, "It is not common. We do not tend to listen to demons but some of them do pray. It can be taken as a sign of redemption and there are those of us who do listen for the prayers of demons. In my case I am watching over Sam and Dean as best I can and therefore am actively listening for them."

The third shot was gone, "I need some sleep. Move the rug from in front of the door, would ya? Dean needs to be able to come in when he gets here." He stumbled to his room, leaving Castiel at the table and Sam on the couch.

 

-Dean-

 

He made a small stop off in hell before heading to Bobby's. With the increase in power came new and exciting abilities. He had a better sense of what was going on in Sam's head and he was curious if he could do other things too. Azazel had been able to invade dreams, if he could do that he could have so much fun with his brother. After the last dose of blood his eyes had turned yellow, like Azazel's, a mark of his increased strength and power. When Alastair had seen them he had been ecstatic but immediately taught him how to keep them black while topside. Different eye colors drew too much attention and Dean needed to stay under the radar. It wasn't possible in hell to keep them black, in hell the truth was laid bare for all to see, so as he moved toward Alastair's workroom he took everything in with brilliant yellow eyes. Alastair was waiting for him, his pen moving quickly across a ledger.

"Plenty of paperwork?" He questioned, sitting on the corner of his desk.

He slammed it closed, "Ever since Crowley was making those deals with the angels the soul count has been off."

Dean shoved it off the desk, settling himself further onto it so Alastair was situated between his legs, "Let's not think about that." He leaned forward so their lips almost touched, "Tell me about dreams."

Alastair's fingers slid up his thighs, "You came to discuss dreams? Not for anything more? What do you want to know?" He gripped his hips, rubbing softly.

"I want to manipulate them, have a little fun, I should be able to do that now." He wiggled closer, resting his hands on his shoulders lightly, massaging gently.

He closed his eyes and they were both naked, "And what do I get? I teach you how to invade your brother's dreams and in return?"

"In return I'll suck you. Deal?"

He pulled him close, kissing him deeply, "Deal."

Alastair pushed back from the desk, "On your knees."

Dean slid forward, sinking to his knees, kissing his thigh, moving toward his turgid length. Alastair watched as Dean's lips wrapped around his tip, slowly swallowing him in, his eyes turned up to gaze at him. He groaned softly at the taste, lashing his tongue over him, sucking and swallowing him into his throat. Alastair's fingers were nearly gentle as they went into his hair, dragging him further forward, forcing the rest of his length down his throat.

"You're a good boy Dean." He moaned, rocking up slightly, "Nice and easy."

He made a sound of protest as Alastair pulled him up, only to press him back down again, agonizing in his slowness. Dean's fingers flexed against his thighs, grumbling as he rolled his tongue over him, swallowing around him tightly, working his throat over him. He scratched down his thighs, looking up at him as he was moved with slow precision.

Alastair pulled him back with a pop, "You look good like this." He purred lowly, running a thumb over his swollen lower lip.

"You're taking too long." He grumbled, lips parted, "Can we get on with this deal?"

"No patience, I thought I taught you better." He sighed softly, "Fine." He forced him fully down, gripping him tightly as he moved him quickly.

Dean whined lowly, holding on tightly, swallowing thickly over him. He closed his eyes, working his tongue and throat in tandem as Alastair gave a final thrust, coming down his throat. His throat worked to swallow it all, opening his eyes to look up at his white eyed partner. His fingers dug into his thighs, splitting the skin in retaliation. Alastair grunted softly, petting through his hair gently.

"Was that really necessary, Dean?"

He pulled back, wiping at his mouth, "Yes, yes it was."

"Dreams, it should be quiet easy for you. All you have to do is focus on the person, make sure they're asleep of course. Close your eyes, focus, and you're in."

"That's it?" He raised an eyebrow, "Really that simple?"

"Yes, it's that simple. All of our abilities come from force of will. Focus and will, it really is that simple."

He grumbled, punching his shoulder, "Ass."

 

-Sam-

 

He was dreaming, it was the only time he saw Jess. It rarely happened anymore but she was special, she was important, and he still loved her. He lay back, his fingers brushing through her hair, pushing it behind her ears. Her smile was warm as she kissed his throat, her hands stroking down his sides. Her lips were soft as they brushed lower, her tongue flicking out to dip into his bellybutton. A low moan escaped his lips as he shifted his gaze to look down at her. Gone was the long light blonde hair, in it's place was short, spiky, very familiar hair. Green eyes shifted to look up at him, his brother taking the tip of his length between his lips.

He jerked awake, eyes wide, gasping for breath. He slowly looked down, raising the blanket to find himself rock hard and twitching. He groaned softly, flopping back on Bobby's couch. He immediately felt thankful no one was there to see him, the relief was short lived when he heard Dean's voice.

"Sammy? You awake?" He spoke quietly, coming into the room, avoiding the devil traps.

Dean wouldn't believe him if he pretended to be asleep, "Yeah, I'm awake."

"How're you feeling?" He moved close, sitting on the edge, squishing him close to the back.

Sam squirmed backwards, trying to hide his erection. In that moment he decided tat Dean was too close, "Better, a little sore but better than last night."

He reached out, giving his shoulder a squeeze, "I'm glad, you had me worried, I thought I was going to lose you."

He gave a small smile, trying to will his traitorous length to stop twitching in his pants, "I'm glad you didn't." In his mind he just wanted Dean to back off, just a little bit, just far enough away that his warmth wouldn't touch him.

"Hungry?" He got to his feet, "I'll make some pancakes." He headed for the kitchen and was immediately stopped in the doorway, "Son of a bitch." He sighed, looking at the floor, "Mind helping me out?"

He moved slowly, letting out a groan, although it wasn't from pain. It took him a minute hut he finally got himself under control enough to break the trap, "You should be more careful. I thought you would remember where all the traps are."

"I forgot about it." He shrugged, "Go back to the couch while I cook, you need you rest, Cas said so."

 

-Dean-

 

Bobby was angry and it was Dean's fault. Sam wasn't well enough to leave yet but Dean had to. Almost every devil trap in the place had to be broken to let Dean out after he had forgotten where they were. It was time for him to leave, without Sam. Of course he wasn't happy about it but Bobby had been surprisingly understanding at first and he didn't deserve to have the rest of his traps broken. It wasn't like his motives were pure, he had done some of them on purpose. He was tired of having to pussyfoot his way around Bobby's house, it felt like he was having to dance the whole time. So he got himself caught a few times, like five or six, Bobby really liked his traps.

"I'll be back later you two! Going on a hunt so I can stop breaking your traps." He smirked and laughed as he went out the door.

"Dammit Dean! You broke another one?" Bobby's voice echoed loudly through the salvage yard as Dean hopped in the Impala.

Demons, vampires, werewolves, skinwalkers, he didn't care what he was going after but he needed something while Sam was out of commission. It would be at least a week before he was in fighting shape and Dean was getting restless. A note on Bobby's desk talked about a vampire sighting in Billings Montana. It was something to do and close enough that he could get back to Sam and Bobby if he needed to. Night was falling when he found a motel, he hadn't messed with Sam's dreams since that first time and he was really looking forward to it.

He settled into bed, stretching out and closing his eyes, focusing on Sam, "Alright Sammy, let's have a little fun." He rubbed his hands together, a dark smirk on his lips.

He opened his eyes, looking around Sam's dream. Sam was laying sprawled out on the hood of the Impala, the sun was bright in the too blue sky. This was definitely something he could work with. He moved forward, laying on the hood beside him. It took a minute before Sam scowled and opened his eyes, looking over at him.

"Dean? What're you doing here?"

He grinned, "What do you mean? We just got here, taking a break from a hunt, remember?"

"I love this place. Just the middle of nowhere with the sun, the Impala, and my brother." He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth.

"Know anything that could make it better?"

Sam opened his eyes, turning to look at him, "What's that?"

He leaned forward, closing the distance, kissing him softly, brushing their lips together, "This."

Sam was frozen given Dean ample opportunity to roll over, sliding on top of him, pressing their lips together again. Sam let out a low groan, finally returning it, pressing up against him. His fingers grabbed for his older brother's shirt, holding him close. Dean moaned softly, gripping at his hair, nibbling at his lips, keeping him pinned to the hood of the car.

"Dammit Dean." He moaned, lifting his hips up, "Come on, this is your fault, so something about it."

Dean could feel the hard line of his cock against his hip, "Nope, we're going to enjoy the sun." He rolled to the side, the hood hot against his back.

Sam growled softly, moving quickly to straddle Dean's hips, "We're going to enjoy the heat my way." He kissed him, catching Dean by surprise.

They rocked against each other, Dean's hands rubbing up his back, gripping his hips as they slid together roughly. Lips, tongue, and teeth fought for dominance as they pressed together. He could feel how close Sam was, he really wanted to let him have it but it wasn't the time. He gripped his hair, pulling his brother's head back hard, licking a stripe up his throat.

"Love you like this." He groaned, nibbling his ear before disappearing.

He opened his eyes back in his hotel room, the look on Sam's face was well worth the erection he was sporting and he knew Sam had one of his own back at Bobby's. His brother wanted him and that deserved a reward. He hummed softly, getting up and heading for the bathroom.

 

-Sam-

 

The water pounded on his back, his hand wrapped tightly around his length. His brother had done this to him, at least his dream brother had. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this, wasn't supposed to want to feel Dean's skin against his own, his hands and lips touching him. He let out a moan as his mind wandered to the feel of Dean's lips against his. He gave himself an almost vicious stroke, twisting his hand at the end. Dean's bright green eyes, soft lips, he growled, hips jerked forward into his hand, it just wasn't enough after the dream. He wanted to feel the Impala at his back and his brother pinning him down to it. He stroked faster, imagining the dream.

"Fuck, Dean." He moaned, jerking forward and coming against the shower wall. He slid down to sit on the floor of the tub, "I want it so bad." His voice came out as a whisper, "Maybe I should be away from him for awhile."

He felt better after the shower, a little guilty, but much better. What was he going to tell Dean? I'm sorry, I can't hunt with you, I'm having wet dreams involving you and the Impala? He couldn't see that going well. Since Dean became a demon he was much more possessive, asking for some time apart was not going to go over very well. He had some time before Dean was slated to return, maybe if he left before he got back, went out on his own for awhile to get his head on straight.

"Everything alright, Sam?" Bobby put a hand on his shoulder, "You're looking a little pale."

He jumped slightly, "I'm fine, just thinking that I want a little space. Dean's been a little...over protective, I need to get away for a bit."

Bobby shook his head, "What are you going to tell him?"

"Nothing, I was just going to take off before he gets back." He smiled, "Speaking of, can I borrow a car?"

"You stupid idiot." He sighed, shaking his head, "Take the truck." He moved to get the keys to the old junker, "Leaving me to deal with a pissed off demon, you'd better appreciate this, boy." He tossed the keys at him, "Take some supplies too, can't have you going off half cocked."

"Thanks Bobby, I owe you one."

"Damn right you do, now go on, get out of here before I change my mind and make you stay just so I don't have to deal with your brother."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that people are enjoying this. We have full on Wincest in this chapter as well.

-Dean-

 

The vampire hunt had been excellent stress relief. He felt better than ever when he got back to Bobby's, ready for the next stage in his plan for Sam. He needed him to drink demon blood, the last taste before his injury hadn't been enough. He knew the dreams were wearing him down and he hoped it was enough to get him to have a little drink, to give in just a little bit. One dream a night and it had been five days, Sam should be ready for the next step. When he got to Bobby's he was surprised to see the old truck gone but assumed the old hunter had gone into town.

"Bobby! Sammy! I'm back!" He pushed open the door, calling for them as he avoided the freshly restored trap, "Sam?" He scowled when he didn't get a response.

"He's not here." Bobby was in the kitchen, looking out at him.

The demon scowled, black eyes flashing, "What do you mean, he's not here? Where is he?"

"He left, said he wanted some space."

"He wanted space?" He sneered, lip curling up, "What direction did he go? Come on Bobby, I only want to keep him safe, I can't do that if I don't know where he is."

"Don't you get uppity with me, boy. I told him you'd be pissy but he wanted to go off so you can take it up with him." Bobby didn't look the least bit amused.

He growled, storming for the door only to forget about the trap, "Son of a bitch!" He yelled, growling angrily, "You had to fix it, didn't you Bobby?" He slammed his hand on the ground angrily, a ripple of power tearing through the trap, cracking the floor and breaking it open.

He went out the door, ignoring Bobby's cursing as he got into the Impala and sped away, intent on finding his wayward brother. He wasn't completely sure what he was going to do when he found Sam but he was going to make sure he knew exactly how worried he was. He had no idea where Sam was but he had a way to figure it out, the only problem was that it would let Sam know he could visit dreams. He could claim he went to Alastair when he found Sam was gone, took a special trip to hell just for him, that would have to work. He didn't bother getting a motel that night, using the backseat of the Impala to contact Sam instead.

"Sam!" Dream Sam was sitting at the edge of a lake, looking out over the water, "Where are you?" He bit out, walking over to him.

He turned to face him, eyes widening, "Dean?" He scowled, eyeing him, "How are you here?"

"I get back to Bobby's and find you gone, you ran away from me, why?"

Sam stood, facing the irate demon, "I needed some space, how are you here?" He asked again.

Dean growled softly, "I went and asked Alastair for help. Tell me where you are so I can come get you."

"No, I need some space."

He threw his hands up, "Space? Why? Things were going fine!"

He shook his head, mumbling softly, "Dreams, I've been dreaming about you, ok?" He almost sounded panicked.

"So?" He feigned ignorance, "What's wrong with that? Why don't you want to dream of me?"

"Because we're brothers and we shouldn't be doing...things."

Dean laughed, "Really? We do things all the time, come on Sammy, it's not that bad." He moved forward, invading his space, "Or do you mean things like this?" He closed the distance, kissing him softly, "There's nothing stopping us from being together, wouldn't this be better in person?"

He swallowed against his lips, feeling their breath mingle, "Yes." His voice came out as a low whisper, barely heard, "But Dean, you want me to drink blood."

"Yes but we can be together, forever, you can have whatever you want, anything you want." He cupped his cheeks, holding him steady.

"I want my brother." He leaned forward, kissing him desperately, wanting to feel.

Dean pulled back slowly, "Tell me where you are."

His head shook, "No, no, I need space." He pulled back, "I need a few days."

Dean gasped awake, eyes burning an angry yellow as he stared at the ceiling, "Dammit Sammy, you can't get away from me."

 

-Bobby-

 

Something was wrong with Dean. He was displaying far more power than most of the demons they had encountered and he was positive that the demon was doing his best to hide that power. Dean had broken that trap, cracked right through the floor in his anger. No demon had done that without a spell and, if the stories surrounding Lilith's imprisonment were true, none had tried. Now Dean was after Sam, he knew the demon wouldn't hurt his brother, he wasn't worried about that, what he was worried about was Dean forcing Sam into something he didn't want. In all honesty Bobby had no idea what Dean wanted anymore. He still hunted and saved people but his focus was on Sam, almost obsessively so.

When the phone rang he absently picked it up, "What?" His mind was too focused on the situation with Dean and Sam to care who was on the other end.

"Bobby? I'm going to be in Lawrence for a few days, if Dean asks tell him I'm somewhere else, Portland maybe, that should be far enough away."

Bobby scowled, "You fool idjit, you want me to lie to him? After what he did to my floor I'm not sure I want to push my luck and you shouldn't either."

"What did he do to your floor?"

He growled, looking at the cracked wood and broken trap, "He slammed his hand down and broke it, that's what he did. He stormed out of here when he found you gone and got caught in the trap."

Sam couldn't help but laugh and Bobby growled, "It's funny." Sam retorted.

"You can repair it when you get back since you find it so funny."

"That's hardwood! I can't fix that!"

"Maybe you should have thought about that before laughing at what your brother did." He sighed, rubbing his eyes, "I won't tell Dean where you are but I'm not going to lie to him either. Take whatever time you need to sort yourself out and call me when you're ready."

"Thanks Bobby." He hung up.

Bobby sighed, putting the phone down and rubbing his hands over his face, "Those boys are going to be the death of me."

 

-Sam-

 

Dean had left him alone since their dream conversation. It seemed like he was willing to give Sam some space like he had asked. He came to Lawrence because it was quiet and although he had grown up on the road he thought about what it would have been like to grow up here. He and Dean would have played in the yard instead of wait in hotel rooms, they would have learned to play catch instead of hustle pool, and would most certainly never learned how to shoot a gun. He leaned his head back on the park bench, letting a cool breeze wash over him as he bought about simple things in simple times. It was short lived however when he began to dream. He didn't know if Dean could manipulate dreams, one time didn't mean he could actually do it and he had said he went to Alastair. He found himself in a motel room, a very familiar one, Ruby was laid out on the bed, gazing up at him, slowly she sat up.

"Hey, it's been awhile."

He could feel the thrum of power beneath his skin, the burn of want and desire. His gaze fell on the web of blue veins beneath her skin, "Ruby." He spoke softly, holding his ground.

She lifted her blade, sliding it down her arm, splitting the skin, "You must be feeling it, don't you want a taste? It's been weeks, I'm sure you can feel it burn beneath your skin."

His eyes locked on the crimson stream that began to flow over her skin, "Not interested." His mouth was dry as he looked at her.

She pouted, getting to her feet and moving closer to him, "You need it, to kill Lilith. It makes you stronger, you can save so many people, pull the demon right out of them. You're saving lives, Sam! Don't let your brother stand in your way."

His tongue flicked out against his lips, "He's not standing in my way, he wants what he thinks is best for me." He held his ground as she came closer. He couldn't decide if he wanted to move back or forward so he didn't move at all, "Ruby..."

She as close enough to touch now, the smell of blood was thick in the air. It filled his senses as she brought it close to his lips, "Just a little taste and you'll feel so much better."

He shot forward, wrapping his lips around the wound, sucking hard. Blood flooded his mouth, power and energy sliding down his throat as he gripped her wrist. She stroked through his hair gently, smiling down at him as he drank hungrily, his eyes falling closed as warmth and power filled him.

He jerked awake, gasping for breath. His hand went to his mouth, wiping it. He felt dirty, sick. It was almost like he could still taste the blood and he phantom of power it provided. He had felt like he could take on the world when he was dosed up on blood. Guilt, he felt it twist in his gut as he thought about the taste of blood, the way it made him feel, he wanted more.

A week, it had been a week since the dreams had started and they were getting progressively worse. Every night he would go to sleep and every night his dreams were drowned in blood. He drank, he could feel the strength flowing through him, but it wasn't enough. The last dream he had the demon he was drinking from had changed into Dean. He was worried about what would happen when he fell asleep again.

Dean was waiting for him when he closed his eyes, "Dean." He moved forward.

The demon grinned, "It's been about a week since we last had a get together. How're you doing?"

"I'm tired and I want it." He bit out.

Dean sliced open his arm, "This? You can have all you want, I wouldn't deny you." Sam was on him in a flash, lips wrapped around the wound, his teeth worrying at it, trying to get the blood to flow faster. Dean's fingers stroked through his hair, down his spine, "That's right, drink, you're my brother Sammy and I will do everything to keep you safe."

His eyes turned up to look at him as he gave one last long pull, swallowing thickly as he pulled back, "Dean." His voice was rough with need, "Where are you?"

"I'm right here Sammy, I'm always right here." He spread his hands wide, "Where do you want me to be?"

"I know it's you so cut the act. Where are you?" He licked his lips, catching the last taste of blood.

He smiled, leaning forward and kissing him softly, "I miss you Sammy." He stroked his cheek softly, "Tell me where you are and I'll come to you. Unless you're in Tennessee."

"Lawrence. I'm in Lawrence." He leaned forward, kissing him almost desperately, "Dean..."

Dean pulled back, petting his lips, "I'll be there soon, Sammy, stay put."

 

-Dean-

 

Part of him had been hoping it was going to take longer than a week but he could honestly say he was happy to finally be going to get his brother. Keeping himself out of Sam's dreams, manipulating them sure but keeping himself out, had been difficult. He wanted to touch his brother, feel his lips on his skin, he wanted Sam and now he was on his way to get him, back where it all began. He found Bobby's truck outside of the lone motel, Sam would be waiting for him he just had to figure out which room was his. Only one door had a do not disturb sign on it, that's where Sam would be. He moved forward, closing his eyes for a moment before knocking. Sam opened the door, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him inside before closing and locking the door.

"You're an asshole." He bit out, his voice an angry hiss.

Dean raised an eyebrow, "I'm an asshole?" He pulled his jacket off, tossing it onto one of the beds, "That's rich, you're the one who ran off on me." Sam threw the first punch, catching him across the jaw. Dean smiled, his teeth catching on his lip, blood beading to the surface. He licked it up slowly, "Drawing blood? It feels like pop rocks on my tongue, little sparks." He sucked his lip in, groaning softly, "Don't you want to taste it?" Sam snarled, swinging again, punching him in the stomach. Dean doubled over, laughing as blood slipped down his chin.

"Shut up." Sam bit out, he shoved his knee up, catching him in the jaw and forcing him to the bed, a fresh trickle of blood slid from Dean's lips.

"Make me." He grinned, licking his lips slowly, "Come on Sammy, make me."

His little brother was suddenly on him, pinning him down to the bed, kissing him hard, sucking he blood off his lips, licking it from his teeth. Dean groaned when Sam bit his lip, drawing fresh blood to the surface. His fingers went into the longer hair of his brother, holding him firmly in place, letting him drink, to take as much as he wanted. He couldn't help but laugh was he pulled back on his hair, giving Sam's lips a slow lick as he flipped their positions, pinning Sam beneath him.

"Oh Sammy, do you want more? You can have all you want." He rocked against him slowly, "Another little taste?" He drew a blade from his boot, drawing it over his shoulder, a line of crimson for his little brother.

Sam latched on and Dean's fingers set to work stripping them both down as quickly as he could. He felt so proud of himself, he finally got Sam to drink and now he had him pinned beneath him. He rocked down against him slowly, grinding their naked flesh together in a long slide.

"Dean." He moaned into his shoulder, grasping at his back, "I need more." He rutted up against him slowly.

"I know what you need." He grabbed a tube of lube from his pants, slicking up his fingers, "Don't worry Sammy, just relax." He rotated a slick finger into him, rubbing against his walls, finding that little bundle of nerves and pressing hard. Sam's hips shot up, jerking their lengths together, "Damn, hold still." He panted, trying to get ahold of himself, it wouldn't do for him to lose control of his eye color when he was so close.

He slowly added a second finger, rocking them in, stretching him out. He wanted this to be good for both of them. Sam was so tight around his fingers as he worked him open, he couldn't wait to sink into him, to claim him. Sam rocked back against him, flying from the demon blood, Dean was sure his brother was feeling no pain as he slid a third finger in.

"Dammit Dean, give it to me." He hissed, lip curled up in a snarl.

"Alright, alright, easy there Cujo." He slicked his length, settling between his legs and slowly pressing in, "Fuck! Damn you're tight." He gasped, settling in fully, his eyes locked on Sam's face, watching pleasure cloud his eyes as he pressed past his spot.

Sam clenched around him, rotating his hips back, "Don't just sit there, more." He reached down, wrapping his fingers around his length and stroking tightly, his hips rocking against him.

Dean moaned softly, pressing down against him and beginning to move. He could already tell he wasn't going to last long and by the sounds Sam made when his prostate was struck he knew his little brother wouldn't last either. Their cries mingled in the hotel room as they moved in tandem, their speed picking up as they sought their peek. Green eyes were locked with hazel as Dean slammed his hips forward, losing himself in the tight heat that grasped and shifted over him. Sam came first, stroking furiously, trying to milk out every drop, his eyes locked on brilliant green. That's all it took, watching those hazel eyes cloud with pleasure and feeling the muscles around him tense sent Dean careening over the edge. He let out a soft grunt, his hips jerking forward as he filled his brother and his eyes shifting to yellow as he rode out his little death.

 

-Sam-

 

He laid limp beside his brother, curling up into the warmth of his body. He felt amazing, for the first time in a long time he felt strong. The problem was he was also starting to feel sticky and sore. Something was nagging at the back of his mind as he came down from his sex and blood induced high. Dean was laying on his side, curled around him, resting, his eyes half lidded. His eyes, Sam knew there was something wrong with them but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He tucked his head under his chin, closing his eyes as he began to go over the night in his head. He was reliant on Dean, he could see that, but was it really a bad thing? He sighed softly and then it hit him. He could see Dean over him, his face slack with pleasure, and yellow eyes gazing down at him. Sam's eyes grew wide and he pulled back, looking into Dean's lidded eyes.

"Sammy? Come curl back up." He grumbled, bright green eyes opening fully to look at him.

"Dean, what the hell, your eyes."

He blinked, looking so very innocent, "What about my eyes?"

"Dude, they were yellow, why were your eyes yellow?"

He rubbed a hand over his face, sitting up, "I think you know the answer."

"What, does demon eye color reflect power?" Dean gave him a small smile, "It does, doesn't it? When did this happen?"

A soft sigh escaped Dean's lips, "Back when Alastair was all hopped up on angel juice. I didn't want you to freak out, I remember what Azazel did and I didn't want you to have to think about it when you saw my eyes. It draws too much attention to run around with anything other than black eyes as a demon."

"I need some time."

Dean growled, eyes flashing, "No Sammy, no more time. I'm done being jerked around by your inability to see what's right in front of you. I'm done messing around."

Maybe it was the demon blood or maybe it was the anger but he lashed out. Sam hadn't used his powers in a very long time and Dean was right there, the source of his anger and confusion. He jerked his hand, pinning Dean to the wall, slamming him back against it, "I'm jerking you around?" He bit out angrily, "You've been invading my dreams! Making me want you, want your blood, your body! I was fine, everything was going great until you decided that I needed to drink your blood!"

A soft grunt escaped Dean's lips as Sam rotated his hand, "You were hurt! That ghost could have killed you! I don't want to lose you, I can't! Don't you get it?"

"You're being selfish! What about what I want? Does that even matter to you?"

He whimpered softly, could feel Sam's power constricting around him, "Of course it matters, it's always about you Sam. You and Alastair, you're my life. I-I can't watch you die, not when I know how to stop it."

Sam snarled, lip pulled back from his teeth, "Stop it? Getting me hooked on blood is stopping me from dying?" He squeezed again and Dean let out a cry of pain.

"No!" He gasped softly, "But turning you into a demon would."

He was shocked, releasing his brother to fall to the floor, his hand dropping to his side, "What?" He had a feeling this was what his brother was after but Dean had never outright said it.

He stood slowly, using the wall for support, "I found a ritual, you don't have to die, don't have to be tortured until you break, it just requires consent. I want you to be a demon, I want you to join me."

Sam turned and headed for the door, "I have to detox." He mumbled softly.

"Sammy, don't go out that door." His voice was low and cold, "Don't you dare leave."

He froze for a moment, "Dean, I have to do this. Don't follow me." He was out the door in a flash, getting into Bobby's truck and getting away as fast as he could.

 

-Dean-

 

Sam was gone but he knew where he was going. He needed to get the ball rolling, needed to be able to control him, lock him down long enough for him to say yes. The biggest issue was that when he started giving Sam more blood he would fain more power and honestly Dean didn't want that power turned on him. There had to be a way to contain him, he just had to find it.

He didn't want to bother Alastair, had troubled him enough with this plan but there were other demons, other options, he just had to find them. He left his body in the trunk, heading below. He needed to act fast, he didn't have much time, and the only one he could think to find was Crowley. All he knew was that he was in hell but he had no idea where and he didn't have the time to go on a manhunt.

"The first one of you that tells me where Crowley is gets a cookie." He shouted, looking over the gathered demons. He had landed in a common area which was perfect, he was sure someone would know where to find him he just had to find the right demon and make the right offer, "No takers? Ok, I can still work with this." He rubbed his hands together, "Whoever gives me Crowley gets a reward of their choice, within reason of course. Can be almost anything you desire, a trip top side, first choice of torture, prime meat suits, your choice."

The demon that approached him was small, all black wisps of smoke. He hadn't taken a solid form like most demons did but Dean could tell this one was a snitch, a weasel, and would do anything to get what he wanted. This could definitely work in his favor and he was sure he wasn't going to have to give too much for the information.

"I know where to find him." The demon's voice was like oil, slick and wet.

He smirked, "Take me to him and then tell me what you want." The wisp 'nodded' before heading off, Dean close behind. Crowley was off in a little used part of hell. When they found him the demon practically bounced with anticipation, "So what do you want?"

"I want to go up!"

"Of course you do." He shook his head, "Alright, up it is." He hadn't actually done this yet but there was no reason he couldn't send someone up now. He took a deep breath, focusing, it was all about intent after all, and the demon was gone, "Well, I hope that worked." He turned to Crowley, "It's been a long time."

He looked a little worse for ware, "Not long enough, last time you were torturing me."

He sighed softly, "Come on, you know it's my job. Besides, that's not why I'm here. I need something to keep Sam's powers contained. You give me what I need and I don't rat you out to Alastair."

Crowley looked at him incredulously as he got to his feet, brushing off his suit, "Why would you need to lock up Sam?" He smiled slowly, "He's drinking again, isn't he? What are you planning for the moose?"

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, "Deal or no deal, the world wants to know." He cocked his head to the side, "Come on Crowley, you've got nothing to lose."

"Your asking me for help in exchange for your silence? I could just move you know. Nothing is keeping me in one place."

"Yeah, you could, but there will always be someone willing to take a deal to rat you out."

He shook his head, "The thing is, Alastair won't kill me if he finds me. I need something more substantial than your silence, I want a favor."

"A favor? Just open ended like that? No way."

Crowley sighed dramatically, "Within reason, not anything that would harm you."

"Or Alastair or Sam or Bobby or Cas."

He scoffed, "You're bringing an angel into this now?"

He shrugged, "My deal, my terms, I'm just letting you give a little input. What's it gonna be?"

"Fine." He closed the distance, cupping Dean's cheeks and kissing him. Dean returned it, deals had to be sealed by both parties after all, "Must be nice to not have to stand on your toes to get a kiss for once."

"Yeah, well, Sam's lips are a hell of a lot softer. Ever hear of Chapstick?"

"Touché." He moved over to another part of his cavern, bending down to pick something up. Dean barely held back a shudder at the rustle of chains, "Don't touch the cuffs, you'll have to get a human to do it for you. They'll sap you of power almost instantly." He held them out, silver cuffs carved with blood red symbols swung from the thick chain.

He took them, careful not to touch the cuffs, "Thanks and don't worry, I still won't tell Alastair even though it wasn't part of our deal." He disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, his intent firmly in mind to take the cuffs with him. Slowly he crawled out of the trunk, careful to avoid touching the cuffs he brought back with him. A loud bark and growl made him jump, his heel catching on the lip of the trunk, hands flailing to grab onto something, anything, but not the anything he managed to snag. His hand wrapped around the cuff and he immediately felt himself weaken, his muscles going lax, "Son of a bitch."

It was an hour before he was able to drag himself up enough to close the trunk and another hour before he pulled himself into the Impala. He could hardly move, it took so much energy just to turn the key enough to get music going. Those cuffs definitely packed a punch and there was no way he was going to touch them ever again if he had his way. Twenty-four hours later he was still our of commission although he had managed to start his baby so he didn't drain the battery completely. He could feel some of his strength returning but not enough that he wanted to go after Sam. It would take some time for the withdrawal to kick in anyway.

Two days, two days he was stuck in the Impala. There were worse places to be trapped but he hated how useless he felt. Even after two days he wasn't up to full strength and he was sure Sam would be starting his withdrawals soon. He had to get going, Sam was a days travel away and he needed someone to chain him up. Hopefully he would be back to full when he found his brother.

Sam had found a nice abandoned building, one they had used on hunts in the past, to do his detox in and outside was just what Dean needed, a homeless man. He approached the scruffy looking man, smiling at him. The man eyed him wearily but didn't move.

"Hey, how would you like to make fifty bucks?"

The man scowled, "Doing what?"

"Simple, my brother is inside this building, I need the cuffs I have in the trunk of my car snapped around his wrists." There was no real way to spin this and if he refused he could always force him to.

"Your brother the one yelling in there?"

He could hear Sam let out a loud cry, "That would be him. I need to get him under control so he doesn't hurt himself." He opened the trunk of he Impala, grabbing the chains, "I could really use the help and I'll pay."

The man took the chains from him, "Ok, I'll help ya out."

Sam was sitting on the floor in the middle of a large warehouse, his hands grasped at his hair as he tugged at it, likely trying to keep himself grounded. Dean went first, moving quietly toward his brother. There wasn't much Sam would be able to do, even though Dean was still weak, and the cuffs would take care of the rest. The elder Winchester launched himself at his brother, grabbing him and pinning him to the floor, his companion was there quickly, snapping the cuffs around his wrists. Dean smiled as Sam fell limp, the cuffs sapping him of strength. Dean was honestly impressed by how quickly the man moved and how efficiently this capture went.

"Thanks." He pulled out his wallet, grabbing a fifty, "Take care, go get some hot food, you've earned it." He felt very fortunate Sam hadn't gotten a hit or two in. The man took it and was gone without a word, "Get some rest Sammy, we have a lot of work to do."


	4. Chapter 4

-Sam-

 

The last time he had gone through detox he had begun hallucinating, this time was no different. It seemed so real, seeing Dean and then feeling the snap of metal around his wrists, but it was just his mind trying to torment him, trying to get him to drink, to give in. His brain knew what it was doing too, Dean was his weakness and the supplier of his addiction. So when he opened his eyes and saw his brother above him he wasn't surprised, after all it was just another hallucination.

"Hey Sammy, good to see you're awake. I'm sure you're feeling weak, I know, I know, those cuffs are draining, but this is for the best." He slit his wrist and the smell of blood permeated the room, "Do you want it?"

The object of his desire was so close, the need bubbling to the surface. He moaned softly, "You're not here." The blood, he could almost taste it but it wouldn't quench his thirst, a hallucination couldn't help him.

Dean stroked a hand through his hair gently, "Easy Sammy, it's ok, I'm here." He moved his wrist closer, letting a drop of blood fall to his lips, "You want it, don't you Sammy? You can have it."

His tongue flicked out, catching the drop, his pupils blowing wide as it touched his tongue. He tried to move, to get to the wound but he couldn't, there was no strength left in him, "Give it to me." He rasped out, lips parted.

Dean smiled, bringing the wound to his lips, watching Sam's throat work as he began to drink. It was minutes before Dean pulled back and even through his weakness he could feel a sense of relief, a sense of peace, at the taste of his blood. He looked up, expecting the illusion of his brother to be gone, it wasn't, Dean was still kneeling beside him.

"Feel better? I know you're not feeling one hundred percent but I couldn't have you pinning me to a wall and running off again." He stroked his hair back, brushing it out of his face.

"What did you do?" He tried to sit up, to raise his arms, but he couldn't.

"I went and found some cuffs. I know it isn't pleasant, I accidentally touched them and was down and out for two days, but I had to be sure."

"I really drank from you?" He felt disgusted with himself, how could he have been so weak, he gave in, that wasn't how this was supposed to work. He was supposed to get better, be away from his brother, not be bound and fall further into his addiction. Now he had no way of retaliating, not with the cuffs snapped around his wrists, "Dean, I don't think I can do this."

He sighed, shaking his head, "Stop overthinking things." He got to his feet, stretching, "Get some rest, I'm going to go get this building all safe from prying eyes."

Sam looked up, examining the cuffs. There was no seam, no latch, no visible way to get them off. He was at Dean's mercy and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't plan on just giving in, if Dean wanted him to be a demon he was going to have to work for it. It felt like forever before Dean returned and he had a bag from a local burger place in hand.

"I thought you might be hungry." He sat down beside him, "Want some help?"

He didn't wait for an answer, looping an arm around his back and pulling him upright to lean against a wall. Sam eyed him, he didn't want a burger but he was hungry and Dean had at least thought to get him something. A fast food salad was pulled from the bag, a packet of dressing taped to the top. They didn't speak as Dean began to feed him, knowing he was too weak to do it himself. When it was gone he gave him some water.

"Thanks."

Dean smiled, "Sure Sammy." He paused, "Want another drink?"

He shook his head, "No Dean, I want you to let me go."

"Sorry, I can't do that Sam." He laid a hand on his shoulder, "Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up."

He was drifting. The sleep was good, helped steel himself against his brother. The problem was that he wanted it and when he woke up Dean was sitting beside him bleeding. He had inched closer to the wound in his sleep but now he was awake and he jerked himself to the side, flopping away from his brother.

"Go away." He grumbled, laying limp.

He patted his back, "Sorry Sammy, not going to happen. How're you feeling?"

"Like shit, how do you think I feel?"

"You'd feel better if you would just drink. I'll be back later, with some food." He got up, heading for the door, "Maybe you'll be more willing to listen to reason later."

Dean was gone, hadn't even bothered to help him up, "Least you could have done is set me back up!" He hated this, laying on the floor.

Alastair was the first one he saw. The white eyed demon circled him slowly, looking down at him, "Come now Sammy boy, we all know what you need, what you want." He crouched down beside him, running his fingers through his hair, grasping it firmly, "A little blood, a slow drink."

He shook his head, groaning, pulling away slowly, working across the floor, "You're not here." He gasped, feeling him step on his leg, pinning him down.

"Oh, Sammy, I'm as real as your mind makes me." He grabbed him by the back of the neck, hoisting him up. He pressed against him from behind, "You will be so much fun to play with, when we get you downstairs. I'm excited to have a hand at you. You do know Dean will share you with me, I'll get to taste you, touch you." He slid his free hand down, over his stomach, "I'll get to reach inside you." He twisted his fingers against his skin, "To feel what makes you Sam."

He screamed, feeling the fingers slide inside, push through his flesh, "Dean!" He howled, his body pressing back against Alastair, screaming in pain, "Please!" He screamed as the fingers slid deeper.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice shattered the illusion.

Alastair was gone and he was back on the floor, "Dean! It hurts!"

Soft hands stroked his cheeks, tilting his head back, "Tell me what you want Sammy." His voice was soothing.

"Please, I need it." He was shaking, clinging to him tightly.

"Easy Sammy, I've got you." He slit his wrist, holding it to his lips.

Sam shook his head, part of him knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it with the pain pouring through him, the need. He wrapped his lips around the wound, sucking hard. Dean stroked through his hair, holding him close as he drank. Sam felt tears fall down his cheeks, he felt so weak, he had given in, again. Dean was so gentle, holding him, petting through his hair, soothing his pain.

"Dean, please, let me go."

He kissed his forehead, "Never." He hugged him close, "It will all be alright, you'll see."

He lasted three days before he was asking for blood when he wasn't going through withdrawals. Three days of resistance but he couldn't take it anymore. The shackles kept him weak but the blood, it was everything. His last hallucination had been the worst, Alastair and Dean had tortured him, torn him apart, cut him to ribbons, but Dean was there to put him back together. He stitched his shattered flesh, pulled him back together again with blood and comfort.

"Sam? Are you ready?" He kissed him softly, petting his hair back.

He swallowed hard, "Is it going to hurt?"

"Yes, but not for long."

He was resigned to this, Dean wasn't going to quit and he had been through enough already, this was just the last step, "What do I have to do?"

"Just say yes, you'll know when." He leaned Sam against the wall, getting to his feet. It was immediately apparent that Dean had been preparing this for awhile. He had everything prepared, including a ritual circle drawn in blood, "Ta-da! Just remember to breathe." He scooped him up, laying him in the center.

Dean worked quickly, stripping off Sam's shirt with practiced ease. Sam took a slow breath, looking up at him, eyes widening as he pulled out a curved blade, "Dean?" He swallowed as Dean kneeled beside him.

"Deep breath, I have to remove your tattoo." He undid his belt, folding it in half, "Bite down." He held it to his lips.

Sam shook his head but bit down hard, squeezing his eyes shut. The knife was sharp as it slid into his skin, cutting away his protection tattoo. He cried out, biting down harder, leaving score marks in the leather. A whimper echoed in the room as the last bit of skin was removed, blood flowed from his palms where his nails had dug into his flesh. Dean's fingers were hot with blood as he gently stroked his cheek. He knew he was talking, trying to soothe him, but his body throbbed with pain. As the pain subsided he slowly opened his eyes. Dean was beside him, petting his cheek.

He smiled down at him, "First step is done, ready to move on?"

Sam spit the belt out, "What? We're not done?"

"Nope, the next part isn't going to hurt as much, promise."

He closed his eyes for a moment, "Please just do it."

"Deep breath in." Sam complied, "And let it out." Dean stroked his cheek again as he let it out, "Samuel Winchester, do you give yourself over to hell, consent to becoming a demon?"

"Yes." He swallowed hard, "I consent."

Dean smiled, drawing a sigil slowly into his chest, blood spilling down his skin. Sam screamed, arching his back. Dean slit his palm, pressing it down on the symbol, wringing another scream from his lips. Black mist welled up between them, seeping into the wound. Sam could feel it sinking into him, filling him. It slid like oil, slick and dark. He jerked back, Dean's hand stayed firmly on his chest as he was filled with darkness. He could feel it wrap around his soul, his very being.

"Just let it in Sammy, breathe, it's ok, relax and let it happen."

He could feel tears running down his cheeks. Dean's thumb brushed through it, coming up red, he was bleeding. The darkness settled around him, into him, and he let it, opening himself up to the essence that wanted to merge with him. Pain tore through him, a final jerk and he fell, into darkness.

 

-Dean-

 

The cuffs had shattered when the transformation was complete. All of Sam's wounds had been healed as well, leaving him naked and unmarred in the center of the sigil. The black mist still surrounded him, hadn't finished it's work, but it wouldn't be long before he woke up. Dean admired his brother's resolve, he had resisted, and made Dean work for his goal. It made it that much sweeter when he finally gave in. He knew that saying yes hadn't been easy for his little brother. He sat beside the still body, petting his hair back, it wouldn't be long and his eyes would open, stained black. A soft groan escaped Sam's lips, his eye lashes fluttered against his cheek as Dean gazed at him in anticipation.

"Hey Sammy, welcome back." He grinned, catching sight of pitch black beneath his lashes.

He groaned again, eyes opening slow, "Dean? My skin feels tight." He grumbled, sitting my slowly, stretching.

"Let's take a trip, you can get out of your skin for awhile."

He scowled, "How do I do that?"

"It's all about will, you want out, think about it and make it happen. I'll be right here with you."

He nodded and in an instant let himself go. Dean followed, wrapping around him, their smoke forms mingling before diving into the ground. They solidified in Alastair's workroom, thankfully no soul was strapped to the rack, Dean didn't think Sam was ready for that. Alastair was sitting behind his desk, his fingers tapping out a tune. His gaze shifted up to look at them, his smile turning feral.

"Hello boys."

Sam swallowed, black eyes locked with white, "I'm in hell." He stated.

Dean and Alastair laughed, "Yep! It wouldn't do for you not to get a proper welcome." Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, "He is king after all."

Alastair stood, moving forward with feline grace, "Sam, it's so good you decided to join us." They were nearly touching, "You deserve a special welcome." He leaned forward, brushing their lips together, "Dean, help me give your brother a proper welcome to hell." He threaded his fingers through his hair, gripping firmly and claiming his mouth in a searing kiss.

Sam's eyes went wide as Alastair claimed his mouth, he was frozen in surprise. Dean pressed up against him from behind, kissing his throat, "It's ok Sammy, just relax and enjoy it." He nibbled beneath his ear, resting his hands on his hips, sliding his thumbs beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Alastair kept a firm grip on his hair, keeping his head tilted back. He lapped at his skin slowly, working down his throat. Dean pressed tight against him, undoing the button on his pants as he slowly rocked against him from behind. Dean palmed the hard length, shoving down Sam's pants so he could get at the prize inside. Sam hung limp between them, his lips parted as the two older demons rocked against him, both were still full clothed. Dean was the first to strip down, keeping his lips latched to his brother's throat, sucking a mark onto his skin. He loved the feel of Sam's skin against his and slowly rocked against him from behind.

"Sammy, you feel so good. Let me in."

Alastair growled softly, reaching back and grabbing Dean by the back of the neck, "I take him first, boy." He hissed, "Prepare him." It was a low order before he sealed their lips back together as if he could consume Sam through his mouth.

Dean dropped to his knees, "Hold him up because he's really going to enjoy this."

The keening sound that escaped Sam's lips was music to his ears as he licked over his opening slowly. Alastair held him up, keeping him pressed against his chest as Dean drove his tongue into him.

 

-Sam-

 

He had been surprised when Alastair kissed him but when Dean dropped behind him and he felt warm wetness against his hole he was shocked. Dean's tongue thrust inside him, his hands gripping the globes of his ass as he pulled them apart. Alastair held him steady, keeping him on his feet. His nerves were on fire, pleasure swelled up inside him as a finger slid in along his tongue. Sam reached up, grabbing onto Alastair's shirt and spreading his legs a bit, hoping Dean would get deeper.

Alastair chuckled softly, licking his ear, "Do you like it? There's plenty more coming for you Sammy, just let yourself go." He kissed him again, nibbling on his tongue.

A second finger was added and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. His length throbbed and Alastair let him thrust against him as Dean prepared him. What were they waiting for? Couldn't they tell how much he needed it?

He growled lowly, "Either fuck me or I'm going to fuck you." He bit out, looking over his shoulder at Dean.

Without a word Alastair spun him around, pushing him down over the rack. Sam was left dazed for a moment before the white eyed demon pushed into him in one smooth stroke. He felt so full, like Alastair was so far inside of him, filling him up with his very being on a much deeper level than just the feel of his length inside of him. His eyes rolled back and he shuddered, his hole twitching around the turgid length, milking at it. Hot wetness wrapped around his length, Dean's tongue wrapping around him as he swallowed him in. It was almost too much and then Alastair was moving.

"Fuck!" He was jerking between them, fingers gripping tightly at the rack he was bent over, "Harder!" He felt so close already, like he was going to explode. Everything felt like so much more, amplified a thousand times over. He was on fire as Alastair took him, claimed him as a demon of hell, knighted him as his.

Dean sucked hard, swallowing his length into his throat as Alastair struck his spot. The world went black as he arched, coming down his throat, howling out his release. The white eyed demon's hips stuttered as he gave a final thrust, spilling deep inside him. Through his haze of bliss he could feel Dean swallowing around him, fingers rubbing his hips, and Alastair stroked down his spine slowly.

"I always wanted my own matched set." He whispered in his ear, chuckling softly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end of this part! I have a plan for the next one, at least a bit of a plan, so I hope you'll stick around to read it when I get started.


End file.
